The Tale of the Wanderer
by MadCapMunchkin
Summary: For on that fateful day, when fire rained from the sky, the giant steel door of Vault 101 slid closed... and never reopened. It is here you were born. It is here you will die. Because in Vault 101: no one ever enters, and no one... ever leaves...until someone does. Now, a child of Vault 101 must go out into a savage new world for the father that left him behind...


**A/N:** Well, I did "Tale of the Wanderers" and it was a hoot! I look back on it, however, and I feel like it needed...more and less in some places. I've also recently replayed my way through _Fallout 3_ and _New Vegas_ (another fic I need to get back to working on) and I realized that I really could have just done better overall.

Editing and grammar issues aside (I _still_ go through and find them), there were so many things on reflection that I wish now that I had done differently. So many things from the (now) bizarre and out of place references to the original _Fallout_ in the backstory of James (and by extension the Wanderer) to the much maligned destruction of Vault 101.

Now, for those who did enjoy it and still do, don't worry. I'm not pulling a Lucas and taking out the original to make room for the new. Instead, think of this as _Fallout 3_ without the Wild Wasteland trait active.

Does that make sense? It had better, because that's what we're getting here.

So, without further adieu, let's take another crack at the story of that crazy kid from Vault 101...

**Chapter One**  
>When Life Opens A Vault Door...<p>

"Surprise!" The chorus of voices was as deafening as the sudden light was blinding to the ten year old, who was both holding up a hand and squinting as the lights in the small cafeteria were turned on.

"Stanley, you turned the lights on too fast! You blinded the poor kid!"

When his vision cleared, the first thing he saw was the towering figure of his father, arms crossed and a look on his face that looked somewhere between joy and sorrow, much as he always had. Other, too, had been packed into the small cafe, everyone in the uniform of blue with yellow stripes that were commonplace in Vault 101.

"Happy Birthday!"s and applause thundered through the room from those gathered.

"Happy Birthday, pal," The voice of his father got his attention first, being that he was standing closest to where he stood now, "I can't believe you're already ten. I'm so proud of you. If only your mother-"

His mother wasn't someone who was talked about all that often. Whenever he'd thought to ask, his father would just change the subject. But he didn't have the time to ask as the voice of someone else had cut his father off. The Overseer had arrived.

"Congratulations, young man!" The man was, if not as old just a bit younger than his father. Darker complexion, beady black eyes, and the slightest bit of facial scruff that set him apart from some of the others in the Vault. He didn't even look down as he spoke his words to him. "I don't have to tell you how special this day is, do I?"

'_No,_' He thought, '_but boy am I sure you're going to..._' He kept quiet about that, though. Dad hadn't wanted him to be a deliquent.

"Down here in Vault 101, when you turn ten, well...you're ready to take on your first official Vault responsibilities. So, here you are..." He reached around behind his back, pulling out a device that the young boy of ten had, in fact, been very much looking forward to utilizing. "As Overseer, I hereby present to you your very own Pip-Boy 3000. Get used to it."

The young man took it, securing it around left arm just below the wrist. The weight of the thing was something that surprised him, even after all he'd read about them. He looked back up to the Overseer once he had attached it to his arm, who continued, "You'll be getting your first work assignment tomorrow." Then he gave a bit of laughter that no one else shared in. Without another word, he walked off.

"Enjoy your party," Dad's far more dulcet tone shook off the shiver that was creeping up his spine, "you're only ten once, so have fun."

"Thanks, Dad." He said, determined to do his best to do just that...in spite of a few of the less than friendly faces he saw cooped up together in one of the booths. But he was distracted from having that particular rain on his parade when a familiar nine year old friend of his barrelled up to him.

"Happy Birthday, Jordan!" Amata, daughter of the Overseer, embraced her friend. "We really surprised you, didn't we?" She laughed. "Your dad was afraid you were onto us, but I told him not to worry. You're so ease to fool!" Her teasing wasn't lost on him, but he let her have it.

"Great party, Amata. Thanks for doing this for me." Jordan said as Amata broke off the hug, standing back to face him once more.

"You're welcome. But really, your dad did most of it. I just helped with the decorations and stuff." Amata, ever the one to underplay her own involvement in things. "Hey, I bet you can't guess what I got you for your birthday. Go on! Guess!" She said excitedly.

"Uh..." Jordan said, his brain going over it. He was tempted to say "a date with Christine Kendall", but he thought better of it. Besides, girls were gross anyway (except for Amata, she was alright). Why had he even thought of that, anyway? "I really have no idea." He said instead, earning a laugh of triumph from Amata.

"I knew I'd surprise you. Who's your favorite barbarian? That's right, Grognak!" Jordan's eyes lit up as Amata walked over to the nearby table, picking up a comic book. "Issue fourteen, with no missing pages!" To say Jordan was surprised was an understatement, comic books were a rare thing in Vault 101. Grognak the Barbarian was really the only series that was in any way numerous. Jordan had collected several of the issues, but fourteen was one that had always alluded him. "_In the Lair of the Virgin Eater"_, with a cover depicting the mighty Grognak bringing his axe to bare against some mutated winged snake.

"Wow, Amata! Thanks!" Jordan smiled broadly. He couldn't wait to read it, find out just what had happened between issues thirteen and fifteen. From the look of the wings on the creature, he supposed he was going to learn how Grognak had that multi-colored cloak in issue fifteen.

"I found this in a box of my father's old things, believe it or not. Imagine him reading comic books. I guess everybody was ten once." Amata said with a shrug. Jordan tried to imagine the stoic, cold man who was Amata's father being ten. No, the Overseer did not give the impression that he had ever been a child. "Well, I'd better let you get back to 'mingling' with your guests. We'll talk later, okay? Happy birthday."

"Thanks again, Amata." Jordan said, smiling as Amata patted his shoulder and allowed him to pass, heading over to speak to her father, who Jordan was more than happy to completely avoid if he could.

He was immediately met by...Paul. Yes, Paul. Hannon. A friend of...Butch's He muttered some thanks about being invited to the party, and not being serious about Butch and his gang tormenting him as they were wont to do.

"Yeah...thanks..." Jordan muttered as he stepped away, as did Paul, both feeling kind of awkward in the situation. Though what would have been an almost apologetic moment was completely stabbed in the back by Vault 101's own personal bundle of joy...Butch DeLoria.

"What?! What are you? Best friends now?"

'_And such a charmer, too..._' Jordan thought as he rolled his eyes and left Butch to bicker at Paul while he passed by Amata talking to her father. She was much more happy to speak to sweet Old Lady Palmer, who sat across from the ice cold Overseer.

"Are you having a nice party?" She asked.

"Yes, ma'am." Jordan said, nodding. It definitely hadn't been a bad party, he could say that much. Butch's outrageous outbursts were expected at most of these, of course.

"Good. Ten years old, my my my...seems like only yesterday, your daddy came..." Suddenly, she stopped and had a look that flashed sudden surprise, but quickly receded. Jordan wondered if he had imagined it. "Goodness! Listen to me ramble! You're waiting for your present, aren't you?"

"Oh, you didn't have to bring me a present, Mrs. Palmer." Jordan said in reply.

"Fiddlesticks! What 10-year-old doesn't like presents?" Mrs. Palmer laughed, reaching into the seat next to her and picking up a small box into which she'd packed a delicious confection that she was well known (and loved) by the people of the Vault for. "I was ten once, believe it or not! My goodness, the Vault was practically crowded back then. Not like today. So few young people now...but here I am rambling again, and you listening so politely."

His eyes passed over the sweetroll as she took it from the box, taking one of his hands and placing it within it. "Here you go, a nice sweetroll I baked for you just this morning. And it's all for you – no sharing required today!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Palmer." Jordan smiled, deciding that he would wait a bit and savor the treat a little later. After all, there was cake to consider as well.

"Attention everyone! It's time to cut the cake!" Andy, Vault 101's resident Mister Handy robot spoke, one of his limbs topped with a circular saw lowering as the saw whirred into life and lowered itself upon the cake. There was a spraying of chunks of cake and icing everywhere, in every direction from the The entire thing collapsed and Jordan, being among the closest, found his face spattered with the debris.

He reached up a finger and ran it through a more solid bit that had impacted against his face, leaving a smear of... "Mmm...chocolate. Awesome!" He grinned, loving the taste, and earning a laugh from both is father and Stanley.

"How do you like that Pip-Boy, son?" Stanley, the technician, spoke up. He was a man in his thirties, someone who had always been very kind to him, and had been one of the people (along with his father) who had gotten him into reading those old Pre-War technical manuals and the like. "Fit alright and everything?"

"It's really cool. Did you fix it up for me?" Jordan asked.

"As a matter of fact, I did, I'm glad you like it. Some may think the A series a bit basic, but I've always preferred them for their reliability."

"Thanks, Stanley." Jordan said. He knew that the B series was a bit more commonplace, but he had to agree, the A series had a reliability the more 'recent' ones just...didn't.

"Don't mention it." Stanley said with a smile. "Oh! I almost forgot." He said suddenly, as if remembering something. From the bag secured by a strap at the shoulder, he pulled out a red baseball cap. "Happy Birthday!" He said as he set it on Jordan's head, covering his brown locks of hair. "I know it's not much, but I hope you like it."

"Oh, thanks a lot!" Jordan said. It would definitely be perfect for try outs next week. Being ten, he was old enough now to qualify for the junior league baseball team. As soon as he left his friend the mechanic behind, however, Jordan found himself assaulted by an all too familiar joyful voice in the congregration of the Vault.

"I'm hungry! And that stupid robot destroyed the cake!" Butch snapped, not caring that he was easily within earshot of both Stanley and the robot he had just insulted the intelligence of. "Gimme that sweet roll you got from Old Lady Palmer."

"Mrs. Palmer said I didn't have you share it, because it was my birth-" He started, but Butch cut him off.

"_Mrs. Palmer said I didn't have to share._" Butch made a whiny voice that he supposed was supposed to sound like him, but Butch didn't really have it right at all. "Who's talking about sharing, moron? I want the whole thing! Now are you gonna give me that sweet roll or am I going to give you a knuckle sandwich?"

"You look hungry. Your mother drink up all your ration coupons again?" Jordan asked without thinking, immediately going for the lowest blow he could pick for the first time ever. It seemed to shock the hell out of Butch, too. He looked utterly surprised, then rage burned in his eyes as he clenched his fist where it had lain as an open hand against the table top.

"Don't you talk about my mom, you little punk!" Butch yelled as he leaped up from the booth, his clenched fist raised for a punch for Jordan's teeth. Jordan closed his eyes just as the punch came forward...and then was surprised he wasn't feeling the usual pain he received from beatings from Butch. He opened his eyes again to find that Butch's fist had been caught...Officer Gomez had grabbed him.

"Butch! What do you think you're doing? Leave him alone!" Gomez snapped at him, and apparently this was enough to get Butch to skulk back to the booth, but not without a look that could have melted steel at Jordan. Jordan tried to look apologetic, not having meant what he said to him. It had come out so suddenly, after so long of being teased and mocked and bullied that it had finally brewed to the surface.

He felt Dad's hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright? Is Butch giving you a hard time?"

"Don't worry, Dad. I can handle Butch." Jordan said. Ironic, mostly because he _hadn't_ just handled the boy. But, there was always the future. He really just hoped that Butch would leave him alone after this.

"I'm glad to hear it." Dad told him. "Once you start letting bullies push you around, you'll never see the end of it." He nudged him to return to the festivities. "Come on now, I bet there's someone else out there with a present for you." The white coated man stepped over to the intercomm as he did this, leaving his son to his own devices once more.

Jordan's eyes passed across the room for a few moments. Butch and his group were talking amongst themselves, Amata with her father and Old Lady Palmer. Officer Gomez had resumed his seat off to the side and was surveying Butch a little more closely. Stanley was looking into Andy's panelling. After a moment of indecision, he stepped forward to try and speak to Amata again...when Dad's hand once more fell on his shoulder.

"Hey, that was Jonas on the intercom. He and I have been cooking up a little surprise present." He spoke.

"Oh?" Jordan inquired, his ten-year-old mind suddenly intrigued by this.

"Jonas is waiting downstairs on the reactor level. Go ahead, I don't think anyone will mind if you slip out for a few minutes." Dad told him, and he nodded. The nearest entrance to the reactor level wasn't that far. From the cafeteria, it was just a sharp turn right and then a left before hitting the stairs. Easy as you please. Leaving the room (taking the issue of Grognak that Amata had given him off the table as he went), he headed down the hallway, ducking to the left (waving to Miss Beatrice as he passed a few feet ahead of her) and finding the doorway with the helpful "Reactor Level" slide above it in big black letters against a red background.

Down the steps, he found himself facing one of the Vault's reactors and, to its left, was a familiar face who hadn't been in attendance at the party, likely because of other duties.

"What are you doing down here, young man?" Jonas demanded in a mock-authoritative voice. "I thought kids weren't allowed on the reactor level."

"Can it, Jonas!" Jordan laughed a bit at the playfulness of his father's assistant. "Where's my present already?"

"Oh, I see!" Jonas said. "Now that you're ten, you're all business. Well then, mister, we'd better get to it. Happy birthday, by the way." He stopped, hearing someone coming down the steps. "Hang on one more minute, I hear someone coming." Jordan peered back into the corridor he had come from to find his father walking into the reactor chamber.

"Are you ready for your surprise?" He asked.

"What kind of surprise?" Jordan asked, thoughts going through his mind as to what his father and Jonas might have "cooked up" as he had put it.

"The Overseer gave you your Pip-Boy, and you're old enough to do some work, so I figure you're old enough for this." He walked over to one of the terminal stations near the reactor, kneeling down and reaching behind it to pull out... "Your own BB gun! It's a little old, but it should work perfectly."

"Wow!" Jordan said, taking the weapon as it was handed to him, examining it.

"Jonas found it down here. It was in pretty rough shape – took us a good three months to find the parts to get it working again." Dad explained.

"Wow, this is great! Thanks!" Jordan said, looking over the thing. It had been beautifully restored, to boot. The wear on it still showed, but it had definitely known some loving hands before it had been delivered into his. "To both of you." He said with a smile to Jonas, who simply nodded and gave a smile.

"You know how tough it is to find a spring that small?" Dad asked. "Good thing Butch 'misplaced' that switchblade of his." He laughed. Jordan had to laugh, too. Butch had been a menace, especially with that thing. He'd just thought that Gomez or someone else from the security team had finally locked it up. "So, what do you think? Want to give it a try?"

"...here?" Jordan asked, his tone suddenly becoming hushed. He didn't imagine that the Overseer would like that at all. "We can't shoot a gun in here, can we?"

"Certainly not. The Overseer wouldn't look well upon that." Dad said. "Jonas and I have found a nice spot for you, though. Follow me." He turned, passing his son and heading over to one of the antechambers off the main reactor chamber. With the push of a few buttons, he had opened the door to the said chamber. At the far end, Jordan could see that a small shooting range had been set up, three targets at varying heights had been set, looking about as worn as the gun did. No doubt, too, restored by Jonas and Dad.

"What do you think?" Dad asked. "You can come down here whenever you like and practice."

"Thanks, Dad!" Jordan said, smiling as he grasped the BB gun properly in his hands, inspecting the sight.

"You're welcome, and be sure to thank Jonas, too. He put in quite a bit of work here." Dad said. "But you can worry about that later. For now, try to see if you can hit all three of the targets."

Jordan turned, raising the weapon towards the three targets. Aiming with the sight, he popped off a shot...which narrowly missed the target.

"Try crouching down, that might help with your aim." Dad suggested, and Jordan decided to do just that as he once more took aim at the target.

"_Wake up!"_

A second shot went off, this time just barely hitting the target, sending it spinning around. He would have had it more exact, but he was suddenly distracted by the words.

"Good job, son!" Dad encouraged.

"Dad...did you hear that?" Jordan asked.

"Hear what, son?" Dad asked. Lowering his gun, Jordan looked to Jonas...who likewise hadn't seem to hear anything, shaking his head.

"_Wake up! You've got to wake up!"_

It sounded like Amata but...different, somehow. He couldn't place how. He went to aim, preparing to fire at the second target when he suddenly heard the loud impact of booted feet against the metal floor outside.

"I'll go see what's going on..." Jonas said, heading for the door back to the main chamber, opening it and suddenly jerking backwards and then again multiple times before he fell backwards against the floor of the chamber.

"What in god's name?!" Dad stared, pulling Jordan back as the crimson plumes of blood that had erupted from the rounds that Jonas had taken to the head and torso trailed across the grated floor.

Several members of Vault 101 security marched in, ten millimeters drawn as they turned their weapons upon Dad, who was likewise gunned down as he attempted to shield Jordan. The ten-year-old boy watched, horrified, as his father's body slumped to the ground.

"Run..._run_..."

There was nowhere _to_ run as the Overseer's goons stepped into the room, the pistols that had once been pointed upon Jonas and his father now upon him.

"_Wake up!"_

He jolted up in bed, frenzied enough for a moment to not realize where it was that he was. His room...his small apartment not far from the medical center. He was no longer the ten year-old boy who was scared to death of the punches of Butch DeLoria, loved Grognak the Barbarian, and was a natural when it came to the pursuits his father had likewise taken.

...okay, so he was no longer the ten-year-old boy who was scared to deaht of the punches of Butch DeLoria, that much could _definitely_ be said.

Nine years and a few months had passed since that fateful day of his tenth birthday...one that hadn't remotely ended so traumatically as his nightmare would have had him recount. And, at his beside, having been trying to jostle him from sleep for the last few minutes, was Amata.

"Amata...what?"

"C'mon! You've got to wake up!" Amata, nineteen as well, spoke with a clear amount of fear in her voice that he hadn't detected through his post-waking grogginess.

"Amata...how weird, I was just dreaming about you." Jordan joked as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, finally taking note of the fear in her tone.

"Don't be a smart mouth! This is serious!" Amata snapped, swatting his shoulder. "You've got to get out of here! Your dad is gone and my father's men are looking for you!"

Jordan stared at her for a long moment. "...what do you mean my Dad is 'gone'?"

"He's left the Vault!" Amata was becoming hysterical. "I don't know how, and my father...he's kind of gone crazy."

"I've never seen you so scared, Amata..." Jordan's humor took a sabbatical as the weight of the situation had begun to hit him. "What happened?"

"It's Jonas!" Amata was on the verge of tears. "They killed him!" Jordan felt his pulse quick, anger rising up in him as his first instinct was to deny it, but Amata's face told no lies. "My father's men. They took him, and...oh, my God, you have to leave now!"

"...are you okay?" Jordan asked, grasping her shoulders firmly, doing his best to steady her.

"Yes...but you won't be if you don't get out of here. It's lucky I got here ahead of them. But we can't stand here talking! You've got to get out of here!"

"Wait, you're saying my Dad left. How? The Vault is sealed." Jordan said, that little chunk of reality suddenly falling back into place from his memories. That was the creed of Vault 101 – "no one ever enters, no one ever leaves". It had been that way for two hundred years now.

"Not anymore, apparently." Amata said, then took a few deep breaths. "Are you honestly telling me you had no idea your dad was leaving? He really didn't tell you?"

"No..." Jordan said. He had spoken to James since he had moved out of their small apartment and into his own small apartment, of course, but his father had never once mentioned leaving the Vault. Whenever Jordan himself had brought up the idea, James had just told him that that kind of thinking wouldn't do, and that at least he would be safe here...

...which, now, was suddenly kind of suspicious when he thought back on it.

But he said nothing to Amata.

"Oh, I'm sorry...I'm sure he had his reasons." Amata tried to console him for his perceived slight by his father. "Maybe Jonas was supposed to explain everything to you?"

Jordan could only shrug.

"But it doesn't matter, I can help you escape. I have my own plan."

"How?" Jordan asked.

"There's a secret tunnel that leads directly from my father's office to the exit. You'll have to hack the computer in his office to open it." Amata said.

"What makes you think I can hack his computer?" Jordan asked.

"You were the top of our class in computer sciences, I'm pretty sure that there's not a computer exists that you can't hack." Amata replied. That was true enough, something he had taken after James and – as he had been told – his mother in. He'd been set to, one day, replace his father as the Vault doctor, working in hydroponics until that day. Amata reached into her pocket, pulling out some bobby pins. "Here, use these to get into his office. That's how I always get in."

Jordan took the pins, setting them in one of the zippers of his Vault suit.

"Sounds good to me, let's get out of here." Jordan said, having no alternative worked out. He had to admit, he had never really made an exit strategy for the Vault, he supposed he would just have to wing it.

"Oh, one more thing." It was then that Jordan noticed the ten millimeter pistol at Amata's hip, identical in appearance (and, no doubt, function) to the ones he had seen in his nightmare just passed. "I stole my father's pistol. I hope you won't need it, but you'd better take it just in case."

"Thanks, Amata. I'll only use it as a last resort, I promise." Jordan said, taking it when she offered and clipping it to his hip.

"Okay, I'll try to meet you at the exit. Watch out for security. Good luck!" Amata said, turning to leave before security arrived.

"Amata..." Jordan started to say, his mouth hanging open as his words did not quite come out following that, what he wanted to say left unsaid.

"...yeah?" Amata asked, looking back.

"...be careful." Jordan said finally, deciding this was neither the time nor the place. Amata nodded as she left as fast as her feet would carry her.

***  
><strong>AN:** Slightly more detailed start, bit more character, and so on. At least, I think so. A bit more than the several lines of text that were the first chapter of "Tale of the Wanderers". Anyway, criticisms are always encouraged! Cheers!


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